Stories They Tell
by jackandsamforever
Summary: This is for the tumblr prompt "Liz sees Red's tattoos". What happens when she sees them when she's not supposed to?


**AN: **This is in response to the tumblr prompt "Liz sees Red's tattoos."

Liz stalked into her house and slammed the door behind her in anger, causing the window in the door to rattle. She was so upset that she was seeing red, which was kind of ironic since it was Red's fault that she felt like this. He had sent her off on a wild goose chase that resulted in her driving for hours to track down a blacklister that never actually existed. She didn't understand why he would do that to her, she'd thought they were making progress with their friendship, but obviously she'd thought wrong.

She paced around the entry hall a few times, debating if she should confront him about it or not. She could picture his face now, the smug smile and relaxed body posture as he looked up at her from his couch and said, "Lizzy, I have my reasons, you're just going to have to trust me..blah, blah, blah blah."

She was sick of his constant mind games and word vomit. She needed to tell him that she wasn't going to put up with it any longer. He was either going to be upfront with her and not waste her time anymore, or she was going to walk away and stop helping him with his little blacklist. She had the control here, not him.

She smiled as she pictured his cocky smile slip away, and fear rise up in his eyes. Liz was too important to him for her to leave, and she was almost sure that he would cut the crap. Ok, maybe it was wishful thinking, but she still liked to imagine it happening; if only for her own sanity.

Decided, she walked out the door and slid into her rapidly cooling car. It was early evening, and twilight was starting to set in. It was already in the low twenties and was only going to get colder; she pulled her coat tighter around herself and turned up the heat, then pulled the car away from the curb and drove towards the house that she knew Red was residing in at the moment.

OOOOOO

She stopped in front of a small, nondescript house in an older neighborhood. She couldn't make out any details about the house because it was dark and she'd never seen it in the light of day. The only reason she knew where to go was because Dembe had sent her a text with the address after she'd asked the day before.

She stepped out of the car and walked quickly up the sidewalk to the house, then knocked on the door quietly. Dembe opened it after a few seconds and said with a soft, slightly surprised voice, "Agent Keen, what are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to Red." She wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Dembe shook his head, "Raymond is indisposed at the moment, if you would like I can have him-"

She cut him off, "No, I'm talking to him now. I don't care if he's with a client, or having sex with an escort, I'm not leaving until I see him."

She pushed past him, and he didn't stop her as she walked into the hallway and stopped. There were five doors and they were all closed. She turned back to Dembe, "Which one is he in?"

She could see the wheels turning in his head, deciding if he wanted to face her wrath or Red's. "He is in the third room down on the right." She smiled, she really did like the man and he was as loyal as they came, "Thanks, I appreciate your help. I'll tell Red that you had nothing to do with this."

He nodded and walked away, leaving her in the hallway by herself.

She slid her coat off and laid it on the hall table and smoothed her hair down with her hands, then took a deep breath. She needed to look and act composed and not like she was pissed beyond reason at him. Feeling calm, she made her way over to the door that Dembe had indicated he was behind, and put her hand on the doorknob. She heard a whooshing sound coming from the other side and couldn't fathom what would make that sound. Liz turned the knob and pushed the door open before she could chicken out. She walked in and shut the door behind her, then leaned against it and looked around. It was obviously Red's bedroom, with dark furniture that had an elegance that she would never be able to achieve with her own pathetic decorating attempts in her own house, but Red was nowhere to be found.

She could still hear the whooshing sound and walked towards another room that she hadn't seen at first glance. She rounded the door frame and stopped, her mouth falling open involuntarily.

It was an exercise room, and Red's back was to her as he used a rowing machine. He was shirtless and sweaty, and had a pair of blue athletic shorts on. He had ear buds in, so he didn't notice her standing there, staring at him. She couldn't drag her eyes away as she stared at the muscles in his back and arms flex as he pulled back on the handle, and was surprised at how good of physical shape he was in for his age. She was transfixed and had to swallow before she did something embarrassing, like drool.

That's when she noticed the tattoos on his shoulder and back. The one on his right arm was odd, and from a distance she couldn't make out what it was. He also had one running down his left side. Words that were in a foreign language. She had to know what it said, she was insanely curious. There was one more on his shoulder blade that looked like little bubbles, with a date written in them.

That's when she realized that the whooshing sound had stopped. She grimaced and made eye contact with Red; he had removed his ear buds and was looking over his shoulder at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Liz cleared her throat, "Sorry, I didn't mean to—" She trailed off when she couldn't think of a good reason for barging in on him without permission.

He raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, then turned around on the seat to face her, "Didn't mean to what, Lizzy?"

Her eyes had wandered down to his chest, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from his chest hair as she said, "I didn't mean to interrupt your workout." She swallowed noisily and drug her eyes back up to make eye contact with him again. He smirked knowingly and said, "It's fine. I was finished anyway", his cocky smile reminded her of why she had been so angry at him in the first place.

She shook her head to clear her increasingly distracted thoughts, "Which brings me to the reason I'm here. How dare you send me on a pointless trip just to get rid of me. I wasted a lot of time and resources and-"

She trailed off again as he stood and started walking towards her slowly, a predatory glint in his eyes. Liz held up a hand to stop his progress, "No, don't come any closer, I need you to tell me why you did what you did."

He stopped inches from her outstretched hand and shrugged, the sweat on his shoulders glistening in the overhead light, "I needed to distract the FBI so I could do some of my own investigating. I also had a client that I was scheduled to meet. I didn't want you sticking your nose in and angering him; he's a very volatile person. I apologize, but it was necessary." She dropped her hand, and he stepped even closer, inches from her body. It took all she had not to step back, because that would mean that he accomplished what he was trying to do, which was make her uncomfortable.

Instead of attempting to argue with him about what he'd done (It would be pointless anyway), she decided to throw him through a loop and change the subject. She smiled falsely up at him, "What does the tattoo on your side mean?"

He stopped his forward progress and narrowed his eyes at her, "It's personal."

She poked a finger at his chest lightly, secretly enjoying the feel of his soft chest hair, "I think the least you can do is tell me after I wasted my whole day for a non-existent blacklister."

He sighed, his warm breath caressing her jaw, and stepped back, then walked over to a towel that was laying on a bench and picked it up. As he started drying himself off he said, "It's the ending line of a Robert Frost poem. It says "I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep". I thought it was fitting."

Liz couldn't agree more and said quietly, "Thanks for telling me, what language is it written in?"

He nodded and said shortly, "Hebrew", then sat down and started to take his shoes off. Liz stood there lost in thought, then remembered the other tattoo on his shoulder blade, "What about the one on your shoulder blade?"

He paused, bent over his shoe, "That one is definitely more personal than anything else on my body, and it's something that's painful for me to talk about. I would rather not explain it."

She nodded, even though he didn't see it, "Can I look at it?"

He sighed, "Very well, as long as you don't ask questions about it."

"I won't, I promise."

She approached him and walked around to his back, then leaned closer to look at the small tattoo. He didn't look at her as she passed him. She studied the tattoo, then hesitantly reached a finger out and lightly traced the small bubbles; he stiffened slightly at the contact, but didn't pull away. She shouldn't be touching him, but she couldn't help herself. The date on the tattoo was from a long time ago, thirty years to be exact, and Liz figured that it was commemorating his daughter's birth. It saddened her to think about him losing someone he loved so much; as it was obviously still painful for him to even talk about her.

She moved on from that tattoo quickly, then moved to his right arm and said, "What does this one mean?" It was weird looking, with a spider ripping a spade in half with some other objects trailing down his bicep. It didn't make sense to her at all.

He huffed a small laugh and turned his face to her, "It doesn't mean anything really. It was a youthful mistake and one that I regret now, but there's nothing to be done about it and I'm finished with trying to make it look better."

Liz smiled and sat next to him on the bench. "Thanks for letting me look. Stories behind people's tattoos have always interested me since I'm too chicken to get one of my own."

He nodded and put a hand on her arm, "Lizzy, I apologize for doing what I did. I shouldn't have lied to you, and I hope I haven't completely ruined your trust."

His hand was warm, and she wanted to take it in hers, but she wasn't brave enough. "Just don't do it again, seriously, or I'm done with you and your blacklist."

"Fair enough." He removed his hand and stood up. "I'm going to go take a shower. You're certainly welcome to wait around in my bedroom or the living room so we can talk some more."

Liz blushed and mumbled, "I think I'll wait in the living room." As strained as her and Tom's relationship was, and as strong as her confusing and growing feelings were for Red, she was still a married woman.

"Very well. I need to shave too, so I'll be a little while." He squeezed her shoulder lightly, and she watched him as he walked out of the room. He was entirely too appealing, with his broad shoulders and muscular back. It was a wonder how anyone ever resisted him with his charm piled on top of all that.

She stood up and walked out of the small room and glanced to her right where Red was. He was standing in front of the mirror shaving, and Liz found herself staring again. It was only when he caught her eye in the mirror and smirked, that she realized what she was doing. She blushed and pointed behind her, "I'm going to go wait in the living room."

He chuckled, "I'll be out soon. Have Dembe give you one of his cookies that he made today. They are simply divine."

She nodded and tore her eyes away from his and made her way back into the front room. If Dembe noticed her flushed face and dilated pupils, he didn't say anything, and she was grateful to him for that. "Hey Dembe, Red said that you made some cookies, can I have one?"

**Author's Note: **I think it's entirely plausible that he works out..James Spader had a fantastic body in "Supernova". That kind of body requires a lot of exercise. I think Red would want to stay in shape as much as possible too. This was a lot of fun to write. I took a week off from writing for Lizzington and I feel refreshed..haha. Please let me know what you think. Reviews keep us writers going and are so important. Thanks for reading!


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